


New Finds

by Stonestrewn



Series: Dinner Time [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonestrewn/pseuds/Stonestrewn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m gonna give it to you,” she says, mimicking Skinner’s accent and the husky tone of voice she takes on during their trysts. ”I’m gonna give it to you good.”</p><p>Skinner doesn’t pout and would kill anyone who insinuated she did, but the purse of her lips comes dangerously close.</p><p>“That’s not how I say it. When I say it, it sounds sexy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Finds

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the Dragon Age kinkmeme.

The chief is away with the Inquisitor, so they're doing it on his bed. 

"You know he won't mind," Skinner had said, tossing her pants on the floor. "He'll just ask if it was good for both of us."

Dalish had still had some doubts, but that was before they were both naked, before she was leaning back against the headboard with Skinner sucking her left nipple. It doesn't do much for her, her breasts have never been very sensitive, but she greatly enjoys Skinner’s enjoyment, the eagerness of her fingers and lips. 

Skinner flicks her tongue over and over, while she kneads and strokes Dalish’s other breast. She’s getting really into it, and Dalish may not feel much sensation in her breasts but she feels all kinds of strong and surging things further down watching Skinner’s face, the way her lashes flutter as she works her mouth. At one point Skinner’s teeth graze against the nipple. It makes Dalish shiver a bit, makes her aware of the nub in a whole new way, and Skinner definitely notices because she does it again, and then again and harder. She applies more and more teeth until she’s truly biting, really sinking them in. Dalish squeals and Skinner lifts her head, looks at her searchingly.

“Good? Bad?”

“Mostly good. I think. I certainly felt it!”

“Mm,” Skinner hums, smug. "I'm gonna make you moan so loud they hear it in Nevarra."

"Actually," Dalish says, "I was thinking I could be the one making you moan today."

Skinner looks at her a little wide-eyed for a second, blinks once, and says:

"Okay."

So they switch. Skinner against the headboard and Dalish kneeling before her. 

“I’m gonna give it to you,” she says, mimicking Skinner’s accent and the husky tone of voice she takes on during their trysts. ”I’m gonna give it to you good.”

Skinner doesn’t pout and she would kill anyone who insinuated she did, but the purse of her lips comes dangerously close.

“That’s not how I say it. When I say it, it sounds sexy.”

“Yes,” Dalish says, stifling a chuckle. “You are always very sexy.”

And it’s true, Skinner is. Especially now, without a scrap of clothing on her, relaxed and open to touch. Her muscular arms, her square shoulders, her boxy torso and her bony hips. Her breasts are small, fit so perfectly in Dalish’s palms when she cups them. She rubs Skinner’s pert, brown nipples with her thumbs, leaves a trail of kisses on her angular jaw, down her slender throat, along the collarbone that has a bump from the time she broke it. Skinner breathes deeply with half-lidded eyes. When the kisses reach her chest she lets out a small moan, and Dalish smiles against her skin. Skinner’s breasts are so sensitive. She sometimes jealously wonders what that must be like. In a moment of experimental fervor, she closes her teeth around Skinner’s right nipple and bites.

Skinner swats her on the head, hard, and shoves her away.

“Ow! Fuck!”

“I-! Oh, no!” 

“What the fuck are you doing!?”

“I just thought-” She had thought it was a thing that felt good, because it did to her. “Oh, I thought so wrong.”

“Yeah. You did.”

Skinner’s glaring at her, hands clutched protectively over the breast.

“I guess you did not like that,” Dalish says sheepishly. 

“Good guess.”

Her brows are furrowed, her face all set and sullen, and Dalish fears she’s about to enter one of her surly moods. If that happens it will be the end to all lovemaking for tonight. 

“Let me apologize,” she says. Skinner scoffs, but doesn’t protest Dalish gently moving her hands away. She bends down so that she’s on eye-level with the nipple.

“I’m sorry, little titty. Can you forgive me?” she says. She keeps going in a high-pitched voice, squeezing Skinner’s breast along with each word, as if it’s replying to her: “Yes, Dalish, I can. You are so pretty and polite.”

Skinner lets her head fall back against the headboard with a thunk, hiding her face in her hands.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Dalish giggles, leaning up to plant a kiss on each of her scarred knuckles.

"I _am_ sorry, I mean it. Please, tell me what you want me to do."

It’s a few seconds before Skinner emerges from behind her hands, but then there’s mirth twitching in the corners of her mouth. She looks Dalish in the eyes and spreads her legs wide. 

“Get in.”

Dalish is delighted to comply. She draws out the journey to Skinner’s vulva, nuzzles the thin trail of hair running from her navel to where it joins the thick tuft on her mound. When she slips in between her labia she finds her wet, but perhaps not as wet as you’d expect.

“Are you sure you are ready?” she asks, and Skinner nods.

“Sometimes-” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, a quick, fluttering movement. “I like to really feel the stretch.”

“All right.”

But Dalish still goes slow and careful, one finger though she suspects Skinner would have preferred two from the start. There has been enough accidental hurts for one night already. Skinner’s vagina is tight - she still gets the stretch she wanted. Dalish always loves the entry, rediscovering the way the smallest shift ripples around her, the intimacy of it. She rubs Skinner’s clit with her thumb and Skinner moans, a coarse, guttural sound that sets Dalish’s own clit throbbing. 

Dalish doesn’t give her two fingers until the one is sliding in and out with no resistance and Skinners juices are smeared down her thighs. She crooks her fingers, working them in short, hard thrusts the way she knows Skinner likes, licking and sucking at her breasts until, all of a sudden, Skinner tenses and comes. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she breathes, clenching in long, slow contractions on Dalish’s fingers, her head thrown back. 

Dalish gives her a peck on the chin once her pleasure has abated.

“Happy?” she asks, and Skinner worries at her lower lip for a couple of seconds before replying.

“I want another.”

This is unexpected. Dalish can get any number of orgasms per session, but Skinner always has one and then refuses to let anything between her legs for the rest of the day. It’s a new thing, this. Dalish’s heart thrums.

“Okay,” she says. She knows she’s probably smiling too giddily, but this is just so exciting.

“Give me a minute first.” 

Dalish would give Skinner anything and everything, she can have as many minutes as she wants, all the minutes in the world. It’s definitely no bother to spend some time simply lying side by side where Dalish can admire her naked body, still flushed from coming. She loves every inch of this woman. Her puffy earlobes and her chapped elbows, her droopy little butt and the prickly hair on her calves. All the parts that come together as a person, _this_ person, with her very particular, rough sort of loveliness. She kisses Skinner - or Skinner kisses her, it doesn’t matter, they kiss each other - and caresses as much of her that she can reach. Silky belly, peach-fuzz thigh.

And then at last Skinner grabs Dalish’s wrist and opens her legs again, guiding Dalish back between them. Dalish gets back up on her knees because she knows that Skinner is going to want both her breasts to be involved, she needs to reach. Her back is going to be aching after this but she is oh, so willing to make that sacrifice.

She starts rubbing Skinner’s clit but Skinner nudges her off. 

“I’ll do that,” she says, and when Dalish looks at her quizzically, she gives a small, impatient shrug. “It’s hard for me. Takes so long otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Not saying for your sake. For mine. I’ll have it better this way.”

“Well, you decide!” Dalish says, smiling. “Would you like me inside, still?”

“Yeah. Inside. Also tits.”

Dalish gives Skinner a kiss on the knee, because she hasn’t kissed her there yet. She has a large, irregular scar covering almost the entire kneecap, new enough that the tissue has a glossy sheen. 

“Poor little knee,” she says, laughing when Skinner rolls her eyes. 

She sinks into Skinner easily; she’s still very wet. Two fingers lightly crooked, gentle strokes to let Skinner build up towards another peak at her own pace. Skinner coats her fingertips in her own juices and rubs her clit in small circles. 

It is different this time. Usually Skinner is fairly relaxed when she’s receiving, laying back and letting pleasure come to her, but now her face is set in concentration. Her teeth dig into her lip. Her feet are planted firmly on the mattress, one on each side of Dalish, like she’s bracing for something big. Dalish takes one last good look at her before leaning down to turn her attention to Skinner’s breasts.

It isn’t long before Skinner is wheezing ‘ _harder_ ’. Dalish pushes her fingers up against the spot just inside of her opening, puts on pressure and lets up and puts it on again, tries to match the pulsing around her. As hard as she dares and then a little harder, because Skinner has started trembling, started panting, started arching her hips off the bed and her finger on her clit isn’t rubbing so much as vibrating.

And then, just as it seems like she’s finally reached where she’s going, the tension breaks. Her finger leaves her clit, her hips fall back down on the bed. She gasps for air for a few moments, exhausted, then her hand returns with fresh determination and the cycle starts all over again. Dalish keeps her fingers moving throughout, keeps kneading her breast, sucking her nipple. She doesn’t talk to Skinner, scared that if she does she’ll pull her out of this place, wherever this is, but she thinks the words at her as fervently as she can: _I’m with you, I’m here, I’ll see you through so hold out_. A bead of sweat runs down Skinner’s chest and Dalish licks it up, salt on her tongue.

She’s never experienced Skinner quite like this. So physically vulnerable, so lost in herself. Dalish’s mouth is watering, the throbbing between her legs is intense. That Skinner lets her be here for the moment when she breaks utterly apart is amazing. Excitement purls deep in her belly, bubbles high in her throat. 

Skinner’s trembling gets stronger. When Dalish expects her to drop and relax she doesn’t, instead tensing harder, raising her hips even higher, forcing Dalish to rise with her. She has to lift her head from Skinner’s breasts if she wants to still reach to finger her and she does, she _does_ , she feels the need for Skinner’s release as urgently as her, as if the other woman’s pleasure could travel through her fingers, up her arm, all the way to her core. 

The pressure around her fingers is immense. She can barely move them, so hard is Skinner clenching, but she does her best, doesn’t want to drop her now. Can’t drop her, can’t let her down. Skinner rises and rises, desperately reaching. She’s shaking, all of her shaking and then it happens, then she comes, one last violent twitch and a scream through gritted teeth. Her face scrunched up, eyes squeezed shut, and right now she’s not pretty, but she’s so beautiful. Dalish feels the tears welling up.

It takes time for Skinner’s orgasm to fade. After she falls back heavy on the bed she lies there panting and flushed, slack-jawed and spent. Dalish massages her vulva with her palm, guiding her through the aftershocks. 

Eventually, Skinner opens her eyes. She looks at Dalish, and starts.

“Why are you crying?”

Dalish waves her hands apologetically.

“I don’t know, you were just so-” she says, but is cut off by a sob. “Oh, _Skinner_!”

Skinner smiles up at her, bright and without restraint, like she so rarely does. She opens her embrace for Dalish to fall into and wraps her arms and legs around her, holds her so, so close. Dalish buries her face in Skinner’s neck, draws in the the smell of sweat and sex and happiness and Skinner runs her fingers through her hair, kisses her ear, laughs hoarsely against her cheek. Skinner is all around her. Skinner is filling her heart. 

After a while Skinner gives Dalish’s butt a little squeeze.

“Want me to get down there now? What’s the situation?”

Dalish disentangles herself from the hug and dips a hand in between her labia. When she holds it up her juices web between her fingers, clear and glistening.

Skinner grins. 

“That’s what I like to see.”


End file.
